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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2006. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
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Katie, HJ Expert
By Katie (hjexpert@hotmail.com)
***
A slave girl's ongoing description of her attempts to
be a better slut for her master. (M-dom/F-sub, mast)
***
Usual deal: Don't read this if you're don't supposed
to! Thanks to the site(s) that host stories like mine.
Support the sites that support us! And write me if you
like! - Katie
***
How I got into this is another story in itself. In fact
it's a rather long and pointless one, detailing the
gradual sexual awakening, exploration and – eventually
– submission of a teenage girl over a couple of years.
And frankly the though of writing a 100kb or more text
file is about as attractive to me as reading it is to
you I'm sure. So here's a little bit of back ground and
what you need to know, if you feel like skipping to the
sex sir or ma'am, scroll down 'til you see the
asterisks.
My name is Katie. I live in Melbourne, Australia. I am
an eighteen year old (almost nineteen by the time
you'll read this: mid 2006. Gifts of cash, alcohol and
drugs will be considered!) girl. Longish (shoulder
length) dark brunette hair. Slim but curvy body kept in
shape by Pilates, swimming, indoor soccer and an
athletic sex life.
I have extremely large (14dd) breasts for someone my
age, my doctor says that I'll probably need a reduction
at some point in the next few years otherwise I'll
start having chronic back problems, but for now they
don't belong to me and that's not for me to decide. I
am a bisexual, collared and owned submissive slave
girl. My Mistress is a 24 year old American expat named
Cassandra, or Cassie, or to me, Mistress Cassie, or
more simply 'Goddess', and more frequently 'oh please
put it deeper in my ass ma'am'.
To her and the people she makes me serve I'm known as
cumslut, fuckpig, slavewhore, cumbucket, and I'm sure,
many other contractions. I am so totally fucking for
real you probably won't believe it. Hell I'm on a
couple of dating/S&M sites, try and find me and say
hello.
I've been collared to Mistress Cassie for the best part
of a year now, from the day I turned eighteen and
legal. Any relationship we had before that is none of
your business. But on that day, we both knew the fun
would really being to start. See, Mistress Cassie wants
me to be a whore.
In theory I am, but my experience is somewhat lacking:
sure I've fucked my way through significant portions of
the male and female population of my high school, and a
couple of others that feed into my social circle as
well. But that's slutty. Slutty is seeing the eight
guys you sucked off at the party the same Monday
morning, and probably giving one of them another gobbie
in the toilets after class if he's brave enough to
approach you. Truly whorish is coming home covered in
the jizz of a bloke or three who's names you never even
got, and will never see you again.
I've always had a kinky bent, had nasty fantasies, and
a submissive side. Mistress Cassie loves to bring that
out and encourage it, not the least because it gives
her many excuses to punish me in exquisitely painful
and perverted ways for being such a goddamn fucking
whore. She wants to see me be a whore, I want to be a
filthy whore, it feels great to be a filthy whore;
let's find a way for me to be a filthy whore.
Now mind you, I may be submissive but that doesn't
automatically mean idiot. In fact I can say without
false modesty that I am quite intelligent and possibly
too analytical for my own good, as I think about,
deconstruct and negotiate with the terms and realities
of my willful slavery on a daily basis.
I willingly submit to obey my Mistress to the letter,
knowing that to fail her will result in my punishment,
knowing that I won't be rewarded for pleasing her, in
fact I'll probably just be punished anyway: I am there
to please her. Blessed with a body like mine, I can't
help but think I was designed for sex, to pleasure
women and men who have the ability to dominate me on an
intellectual and physical level, to make me feel like
the submissive, inferior piece of meat I love to be.
It's half playing a role, and it's half a feeling of
degradation and powerlessness that starts somewhere in
my cunt and spreads out over my body, making my face
flush and my toes curl.
In fantasy land I could go out on the street naked,
with a box of condoms taped to my forehead, and let any
man, woman and/or beast have their way with me, with no
consequences. Holy fuck the thought of that just made
me very wet. But, as wu tang financial say, this ain't
trading places, this is real fucking life. To do that
involves breaking all kinds of laws and taboos and runs
the risk of abuse and disease. Part of the thrill of
this for me is its my dirty little secret. Hell I still
even live with my parents, and they have no idea what's
going on (lolz)! So for both safety and secrecy, we're
lucky we have the internet.
Not long after my eighteenth birthday I signed up for a
few internet dating sites. Mistress Cassie and I drew
up a strict set of rules as to whom I could meet with
and what I could do with them. Designed partly for my
own protection, and partly just to remind me that
Mistress Cassie controls me completely – like her order
that on every fourth day I have to write 'this whore is
property of Mistress Cassie' on a piece of tape and
attach it to my left breast, so its there pulling at
the skin all day, reminding me who owns that skin –
these rules are inviolable and to be obeyed to the
letter. I'm a good slave girl, and I do what I'm told.
Basically I created profiles telling guys I wanted to
meet with them to give them hand jobs. I am
slavewhorekatie, the hj expert! In my role as being a
piece of meat designed to please other, superior people
(ie everyone who's not me), I was to seek one off
meetings with people to serve them, to get them off.
Handjobs in particular were considered appropriate as I
experience no physical stimulation at all in giving
them, beyond the horny thrill of having a thick pulsing
dick cumming in my hands of course. Mistress Cassie
considered it the ultimate use of my body solely for
someone else's pleasure. However, she made it allowable
for me to use my talented mouth on guys over six inches
in endowment, and offer tit wanks to guys seven and up.
Sounds like a recipe for spam, doesn't it? And it is, I
get approximately 50-75 emails every day to my profile.
To help cull it even more the men had to be aged 18 to
22 with absolutely no exceptions, live within 25
minutes drive, and be available for discrete meetings
in places like car parks late at night on weeknights
and the like. The concession to my own life demands of
work, school and possibly suspicious parents allows me
to talk to them online through msn and the like, cyber
with them etc if meets can conveniently be arranged, up
until the time they can.
I'm also allowed to meet girls and couples and service
them, and the rules and age restrictions are much more
relaxed. In that case, my Mistress reviews their
profiles and communications and gives her approval or
denial, sometimes at random. One extremely hot girl who
lived locally she wouldn't let me fuck. She did however
take the girl for herself, and pixt me a few teasing
images as they were in the act.
So far it's been working out great! The internet
provides an online world of perversity and desire that
I can log in and out of as the demands of my time and
lifestyle permit. I have ultimate control – perhaps too
much control for a slave, despite everything being
defined and controlled by my mistress – creating the
ideal safe and pre-defined fantasy situation for me to
explore my whoredom. I meet guys, I pull them off,
sometimes I suck them, sometimes I even fuck them and
report to my Mistress at the nearest available
opportunity for the appropriate severe punishments. I
meet girls, I've met one couple so far and want to meet
more. I'm experiencing a wonderful sexual awakening,
and here's just a sample of it.
******
I don't think people realize how bitterly fricking cold
it gets in the autumn months in the southern half of
Australia. It wasn't still an hour and a half before
midnight and my exhaled breath was already visible as
steam in front of my face.
Of course, the way I was dressed was most likely not
helping this. I'd gone for the slutty police office
look: Tight blue leotard, slit to below my navel,
bulged out with my breasts, nipples barely visible
under the edges of the slit, black army style belt,
fake police badge, cop hat, even motorcycle cop
sunglasses. Fishnet stockings making their way down to
black converse chuck tailors. A bit incongruous yes,
but I can't drive well in my high heeled boots, and
can't risk being pulled over like this. That's why most
of the ensemble was covered in a long hooded sweatshirt
for the moment.
Getting into my car and silently releasing the clutch,
I let it roll down the driveway and coast out into the
street before I started my engine. Ever since I've got
my license, hell even before, my parents were used to
me disappearing at night and coming back in a few
hours. They figured it was usual teenage things I
guess? Maybe they thought I had a boyfriend. So long as
they left me alone I didn't care. And so there was no
harm in not waking them up anyway. I drove around the
corner and parked on the curb.
Turning on the interior light I took a small bag full
of coke from my hoodie; enough for four lines. Two were
chopped out on the dashboard and I blasted both rails
in quick succession, enjoying the rush. Kid's drugs are
bad. But they make me feel good. Officer snorty, on her
way to a hand job date, ah the irony.
It was a short drive to where I was meeting
sexydaleau69; ten minutes up the road, the quiet car
park out the back of a local sports complex. Choice
meeting/groping/sucking spot for horny teenagers and
closet homos alike. On a freezing Tuesday night in
April it would probably be quieter than usual.
Sexydaleau69 – Dale I'm assuming, I don't care about
his name, that was the profile name – wasn't there yet.
Not surprising, he lives a good 25 minutes away
according to his profile. But that's the thing, when
you offer eighteen year old boys a free wristy while
dressed in a slutty cop costume in a car park late on a
weeknight, they're usually willing to travel a
significant distance. I tilted the seat back and
waited, lightly teasing my breasts through the blue
lycra and enjoying the feeling of the cocaine and
adrenaline mixing in my system.
Before too long another car pulled into the car park,
headlights piercing the mist hugging the ground, and
pulled to a stop in the row of spaces directly opposite
mine. The lights flashed, once, pause, twice, pause,
once. The signal I gave him, a little bit of
clandestine fun. I shucked the hoodie and with a deep
breath stepped out into the cold night. Lit by far off
street lights I sashayed my way over to Dale's car,
sunglasses and cap on, and knocked on the driver's side
window. He wound it down and I said, in my best
officer-bitch voice 'get in the back seat and open the
door please sir'.
As I slipped into the back seat of his car I flicked
the switch on the roof to leave the interior light on.
This spot was private and I liked to see what I was
doing, and more importantly I liked my boy to see what
was being done to him. Besides, if anyone's watching,
fuck it, I'll gladly do them next if they ask.
Dale was cute. Young, still a few pimples, wiry, curly
blonde hair. Tight jeans and one of those insipid
striped polo shirts with random crap stenciled all over
them. Glancing at him over the top of his glasses, I
intoned, still in my cop voice 'lose the pants please
sir'. He eagerly wiggled out of them, kicking the
driver's and front passenger's seats forward to give us
space. 'Boxers too sir', I ordered, losing some of the
dominance in my voice to the huskiness I could barely
control with the heat rising inside me.
Those boxers were TENTED...oooh yes! He was at least
eight inches. Unfortunately this was a day when I was
prohibited from any significant blowjob action (8th,
15th, 18th, 26th of each month, Mistress Cassie's
orders, lolz), but this was going to be fun, especially
those lovely swollen, freshly shaved balls now hanging
between his thighs.
'Hmmmmm.' It came out more as a low growl in my throat,
this was what I lived for, servicing people, getting
them off. Tossing the sunglasses aside I crawled across
the seat like a prowling cat, and with one feel swoop
ingested his whole cock down my throat, balls deep.
"AAAAHHHHHHH!" he groaned and flexed, I could feel
muscles in his ass clenching.
I kept his cock encased in my warm mouth for three or
four seconds before withdrawing, leaving a long trail
of spittle stretching along his shaft to my lips. I
gave him another slutty smile, tossing my cap aside,
before taking my position on my knees before him in the
space provided between the back and front seats, in
between his spread legs.
Using my throat goo as lube I began a strong, confident
wanking motion, starting at the head, moving my palm to
the base while keeping my thumb on his cum-hole, and
moving back up. Slow, powerful, confident strokes,
while the other hand massaged his balls from beneath.
Dale's thighs were already lifting off the seat. God I
love the inexperienced ones.
"Please, please... can I f-f-f... ahh... can I feel
your tits?" he stammered. A lot of men like that for
some reason, and it's not against the rules, only cunt
contact is. This leotard can barely contain my massive
sweater puppies anyway, and it was the work of but a
second to pull it back so they popped out in the space
provided. He immediately groped them inexpertly, before
his thumbs found my nipples and settled into a circular
motion.
I was meanwhile working his dick faster and faster,
squeezing his balls tighter. Dale was making sounds
from the back of his mouth, his breath coming in short
bursts his ass clenching and unclenching, his hips
thrusting up and down, trying to fuck the air... it
wasn't until I did this that I understood the idea of
cum 'boiling' up in a guy's balls. I could almost feel
it, with another half guttural, half strangled cry, he
tensed, and, ahhh, yes!
It started flooding out all over my hands, down his
shaft, dripping down to my hand fondling and massaging
his balls. Hot, salty, white, gorgeous thick cum. It's
times like this I curse things like AIDS because it
looked so deliciously inviting, just to lick him clean.
But like I said, I'm submissive, not stupid. Instead, I
used my hands to massage his wonderful sperm into the
shaft of his dick, getting it and my hands wet and
sticky in the process.
Dale had collapsed back onto the seat, his muscles
relaxed, his breath coming in deep gasps. But the only
part I cared about of him, that wonderful eight inch
cum hose between his legs, was still rock hard. This is
what I loved most about the inexperienced.
I slipped my hand underneath him, between his butt and
the seat. With the balls cupped on the flat of my palm,
I found his puckered, flexing anus and stroked it,
teased it, with a sticky finger, inserting just the tip
of my nail into the hole. My other hand was stroking
his thigh, but, after a long, slow lick from base of
the balls to the tip of the head, resumed it's wanking
action on his thick, pulsing hunk of meat.
I don't know what it is, but I live the thick ones the
best, the ones that I can barely get my hand around.
Dale had this in spades. My patented switch to the
light encirclement with just thumb and forefinger,
barely touching the skin of the shaft, to prolong the
ecstasy, was useless, my small hands wouldn't get
around him like that! God I had to have this kid again.
He was already grunting and groaning, being much more
vocal about it this time. That's what I like, when
they're so lost in the pleasure I'm giving that they
lose all self-consciousness. By now I'm sure the crotch
of my leotard was dark with the juices dripping out of
my wet pussy. He seemed to be loving the almost-
fingering I was giving his ass too, flexing and humping
up and down on the seat, taking me in and out of his
ass by millimeters.
Oh shit I HAD to have him again. No matter what the
consequence, what the punishment Mistress Cassie
devised was. No matter how hard she made me bleed, even
if she finally followed through on the threat to take a
shit on my face and tits...I needed to feel Dale's cock
in my hands, in my mouth, maybe even in my sopping wet
cunt, again.
I could feel his cock literally throbbing. His face was
contorted, his hips had lifted his whole ass off the
seat. Now for the coup de grace... I leaned forward,
and enclose his hot cock with my tits. Removing my
hands from between his legs and squashed my tits
together. It was enough. He literally shot his load
this time, it sprayed up a full inch into the air
before splatting on my tits. I sat back and kneeled on
my haunches, enjoying the site and feel of his warm
sticky load on my skin. He was flushed, all his muscles
relaxed, his chest visibly rising and falling with his
deep breathing.
But before Dale could open his mouth I was gathering my
things and out the door. Before I slammed it shut I
leaned in from the outside and said 'email me, we need
to do this again next week'. He smiled, flushed, almost
like he couldn't believe his luck, aww, cute. 'How
about same time next week?' he asked.
'The 18th? Let's make it the day after' I smiled and
sashayed my way back to the car.
Epilogue:
When I got back in took a few deep breaths and settled
myself, barely aware through the horniness coursing
through my body that my tits were still hanging out of
my hardly-there outfit, with some random boy's cum
drying on them. I check my mobile, stashed in a the
glove box. Shit, a message from Mike.
Mike was my fuck-buddy of a few years. A couple years
older, stupendously hung, wonderfully dominant. That
rare find of guy who's a real sweetie but will still
slap you around in the bedroom to the point of a blood
nose and a black eye if you wanted it. And that's the
way I pretty much always want it. He did me so well
that Mistress Cassie allowed my relationship with him
to infringe on my relationship with her, so long as she
always got preference.
The text from him was dated half an hour ago. Had I
really spent that long in the back seat of Dale's car?
All it said was 'come over, now'. Oh god. He wants a
fuck. I was so horny but so tired, I was just planning
to finish this off with my vibrator. Oh well, you can't
say know when you're a slave girl.
The two other lines of blow and I was ready and more
than willing to satisfy him with my holes. Mike's place
isn't far from mine so it was five minutes drive away.
He lives on his own and his driveway is concealed from
the road, so I didn't even bother putting my tits back
in. I did take the sunglasses off and make a brief
attempt at fixing my hair before I put my hat back on.
Mike was sitting on the couch of his living room, I
could see him through the windows by the light of the
TV. Some shitty discovery channel documentary. He
didn't bother to get up to let me in, just smirked as I
walked in the door; 'well if it isn't officer slut,
what did you just do'. I giggled and smiled half-arsed
coquettishly, and replied 'well, usual car park pull
off, you know the deal'.
'Hah! You're such a whore!' Mike said as he stood up
and crossed the room in two strides. Any lingering
tiredness disappeared when I saw the bulge in his
trousers. As soon as he was in range he reached out and
slapped me on the face, twice, hard. My head still
ringing, he grabbed me by the belt and dragged me to
his room, throwing me face-down on the bed.
'That's for making me wait, slut' he said as he grabbed
my cunt through my wet leotard, pulling up to indicate
that he wanted me on all fours. My belt came off and
was wrapped around my throat, Mike grabbing both ends
and using them like a set of reigns. OOOOOoooohhhh
goody! Choke-fucking!
He pulled the lycra off my sticky cunt and tucked it to
one side in the crease between my thigh and pussy lip.
I heard his jeans unbuckling and before I knew it his
thick meat was thrusting into me from behind. From the
way he grabbed the belt and pulled it taught against my
throat as he rammed his whole shaft deep into me, I
knew this wouldn't last long. I needed to make the most
of this. That didn't take much effort.
Apart from his hard thrusting dick filling up my hungry
cunt that'd been aching for something in it for most of
the night, I had the delicious feeling of my belt
biting into the skin of my throat... his dick filling
me up so good, the choking timed with his thrusts, the
feeling of being used so well... ohhh yessssssssss!!!
My cunt started clenching around his dick, milking it
like my hands milked Dale. He pulled his cock out of my
still pulsing cunt, groaning 'oh Katie you fucking
whore' and shooting his load all over my exposed ass
crack. Aww, what a sweetie, he knows I love the feeling
of come on my asshole.
Well such generosity had to be rewarded, and fuelled by
the adrenaline from my cum and the remains of the coke
I got on my knees and slurped and slobbered all over
his pole until he re-hardened. Treating him to an
expert blowjob, he lasted long enough until my jaw
almost got sore, before gripping my throat, pulling his
dick out and shooting his second load all over my
forehead and the top of my hair. He even used my hair
to wipe his dick clean.
Making my way out in the cold to my car, my outfit in
disarray and stained, four loads of sticky cum on my
hands, ass, tits and even in my fucking hair, about to
sneak back into my parents room and go to bed without
cleaning any of that mess up. It's time like that when
I always think it: goddamn I love being a whore.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 44